


Late Nights and Early Mornings

by Pandora_de_Romanus



Series: Ship-tober 2018 [11]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Karaoke, Light Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 03, Sex, so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22830868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora_de_Romanus/pseuds/Pandora_de_Romanus
Summary: Matt, Karen and Foggy get out of work late and decide to go karaoking until dawn.Foggy is surprisingly good and Matt gets to some obvious conclusions. He decides to talk it out.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Series: Ship-tober 2018 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1153577
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Late Nights and Early Mornings

They had worked hard and late into the night. Still building on Fisk’s case. They all wanted to make sure he would stay locked up for a long time.

It almost felt like old times. Foggy’s jokes and insights, Karen’s unexpected angles. Matt loved this. Matt loved them. It almost made him forget how much he had hurt them. How much more he had learned about Karen. How much more he had learned about Foggy’s commitment to justice, the system, and surprisingly… Matt himself. 

He had Marcy and his Family, but he never ceased to put himself on the line for Matt. Or Karen. The Nelson’s were warm to him always, treating him as an extension of Foggy, but Anna, Foggy’s mom, made sure to explain to him… No matter how much Foggy’s life changed… Matt would be always a priority. And that was a hard blow to Matt. Harder than Poindexter’s punches and as true as his aim. He felt like a pile of shit, and that feeling didn’t improve after he discovered from Theo about the Red Lion Bank.

That night, though… It wasn’t young, it was past midnight when they got out of the office over the Meat House, but they treated it as if it was just the beginning. They were rejoicing in each other, in working together, on being alive and free from Jail. Josie’s was already closed, so they ended up in this dingy all-nighter karaoke bar. It looked out of place in Hell’s Kitchen but it was very much like so many around Broadway that targeted the theater buffs. There was live music and a piano. The alcohol was bad, and the whole place smelled like sweat and cigarettes. The company, though, made it all worth it. Karen laughed loudly, and Foggy’s face emanated heat which meant his face was red from drinking. Matt yearned to touch, but he contented himself with reaching and feeling the heated skin of his hand under his for a moment. Foggy held tight and Matt’s heart warmed over. 

Karen was already drunk enough the she went there and tortured them with a poor rendition of “Man, I feel like a woman” with some dancing and all that Matt couldn’t see but made all male public’s blood pressure rise a bit so Matt was sure it was probably sexy. He kept his wits about him in case anyone tried anything. He didn’t even notice that Foggy was gone until he heard his voice through the sound system. 

He was there, standing on the small wooden stage in front of all.

His heart was beating fast and his movements sounded nervous. Matt could easily pick the sound even in the bar, even with the cacophony of loud inconvenient noises like clinking glasses, and how he hated the way glass vibrated, there was also the hum of energy powering the whole place, there was also the mean laughter of the ones judging Foggy by his looks two tables over. “What is fatty going to sing?” one of the women asked her friend mockingly and the other laughed sounding shocked with the other’s callousness. Matt wanted to punch them, but he knew it was the alcohol talking, he didn’t have much time to think of anything else as the song started and interrupted all thought.

The song was all Foggy. It was old fashioned, elegant, and when his voice resounded Matt was speechless. Matt had never heard him sing in tune before. Foggy would sing when drunk but that was always a catastrophe. Foggy’s voice touched Matt like a caress, like velvet. The whole bar promptly stopped just to hear him sing. Like nobody expected anything from him and, as usual, Foggy surprised them. All holding their breaths at his voice. 

“Strange, Dear…” He sang, right in tune. “But true, dear.” He continued, his voice deep and suave. 

Foggy moved as if the nervousness died away as he was intimate with the song. The confidence he showed in court bleeding through. The mic was wireless, and Foggy just jumped off the short stage and started walking among the tables.

“When I’m close… to you, dear.  
The stars fill the sky…”

He reached the high note effortless and Matt stopped a moment to marvel at this hidden talent, this little secret Foggy had kept from him for so long.

“So in love with you am I…” He spoke to a lady in the table nearby and kissed her hand. It was flirty and funny but it was clear that it was part of the show. 

“Even without you” The melody was mellow and even with Foggy’s charming nature was so sad… felt like a punch in the gut. No matter that it sounded romantic, and magical as it talked about the stars. The hurt resounded on every note, clang to Foggy’s voice like a stale bitter smell.

“My arms fold about you  
You know, darling, why  
So in love with you am I”

He went on and started dancing with Karen for a bit. Twirling her around in unsure feet. Holding her from an untimely fall. Still singing, still charming every single soul in the room. Matt felt his blood pump and he couldn’t take his attention off Foggy’s movements and the nuances of his voice.

“In love with the night mysterious  
The night when you first were there  
In love with my joy delirious  
When I knew that you could care”

That was when he turned to Matt, and his voice came closer. The words were poetic and lovely, but the sinister underline was there. This invitation to hurting that colored the notes. 

“So taunt me and hurt me  
Deceive me, desert me”  
I'm yours 'til I die  
So in love  
So in love  
So in love with you, my love, am I”

Matt felt himself drown in Foggy’s pain and it was so real. The tiredness was real. As if all those feelings were Foggy’s friends for years. And as he sang he looked at Matt and then…

Matt just understood. 

Marci was gone the moment he came back. He knew then that Foggy was his no matter how many women walked in and out of his life. No matter how many times he had tried to leave Matt, how many times Matt had lied, or hurt him for Elektra, or any of his women.

Foggy was his.

It was an intoxicating feeling to acknowledge. Though the Devil in him rumbled in the back of his mind, justified. Matt felt like an idiot to never had noticed before. All those years of devotion. 

He pondered on this new-found but certainly old love. He thought on the times he heard Foggy’s attraction to him but had thought it was nothing more than fleeting fancy. 

After all was said and done, and the morning light shone on their skin, Matt wasn’t properly drunk. They both left Karen at her apartment and walked to Foggy’s. 

As they were safely inside, it was decided. They needed to talk about this. 

“Didn’t know you could sing like that.” Matt said, suddenly shy.

“I was a theater kid in high school. Could sing and dance. But nothing tops a good trial. I think it suits my flare for the dramatic.” Foggy explained laughing.

“I like your voice. It’s nice. Not that common these days, very classy.”

“Thanks.”

“Foggy… I…” He couldn’t resist. Foggy’s heat so close, the alcohol still present on his breath, Matt reached for him and kissed him. Foggy, froze for a second but blissfully surrendered. It was long and full of unleashed desire. Matt felt hands on his hair as he pulled Foggy’s whole body to him. Tongues tangled into a long-awaited dance; their breath heavier. Matt felt his own erection brush against Foggy’s and that was what seemed to sober up the blond man. A firm palm on Matt’s chest stopped all motion.

“Foggy… I won’t desert you. Or deceive you anymore.” Matt was fast to say, trying to make him understand that he finally got a clue. 

Foggy huffed out a hollowed, hurt sound that was supposed to be a laugh.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Matty.” His love answered and Matt couldn’t tell what hurt the most, the absolute conviction in his voice, so sure Matt would hurt him again, the steady sure heartbeat or the endearment.

“I never sang around you because I kind of knew you would see through it.” Foggy said, and his voice was breathless from their kisses but the smell of salt in the air meant tears. It hurt Matt so much more. “I… I love you, Matty. And I’m in love with you. But I don’t want your pity. Much less be your poor substitute for Elektra. I’m sorry.”

“Foggy… I… I never knew. I… It’s not pity. I never wanted to hurt you like that. And I always thought you were… too… good to get caught up in this mess that is my life. I don’t want to hurt you now. I never ever wanted to leave. Or lie to you. You must know that! I… I would never…” Matt was begging, and he remembered the last time he did, he was begging Elektra to stop. The memory hurt even more, and he felt his eyes fill with his own tears. He hated crying. 

“You never wanted to do those things, but you did.” Foggy said and he was crying but it sounded rational even through the tear-chocked voice. Like he had had that conversation with himself a thousand times. 

“I did!” Matt confessed and he was ashamed, but he wasn’t going to lie or be polite about this thing between them. Not anymore. “I did, and will probably do it again as I’m a fucking idiot but please… You’ve put up with me so far, you left Marci again as soon as I came back. You still want this, more fiercely than I do. You are as much of an idiot as I am!”

“A masochistic idiot, you mean.” Foggy laughed through his tears. “Fuck, Matty. You keep this up and I’m gonna break.”

“Then break.” Matt said and it was his last effort.

And it paid off as he felt Foggy’s lips on his again. It was perfect and Foggy’s scent was overwhelming and Matt drank the feel of his lips and his smell like a thirsty man in a desert. He didn’t care he could taste the bar’s peanuts or smell the cigarettes on his hair. It was Foggy, so it was glorious. The Devil was out grabbing Foggy’s shirt and ripping off the buttons, he needed to feel Foggy’s skin on his fingers. His pants didn’t fare any better. 

Foggy was all soft skin and round edges. Matt spent his life starving himself in every aspect of his life, affection, trust, food, comfort… He was an orphan that lived in a church funded orphanage. Foggy was all that in his mere existence. Foggy was abundance. He taught Matt about having things, about having love and comfort and everything Matt knew not to want. And that came in the shape of his body, Foggy didn’t have sharp edges like he did. Foggy was anatomically comfortable. He fit into Matt’s hands and around his sharp edges in a way none of his women never did. Sleeping with Elektra was like a sword fight, they both were so bonny and harsh. Foggy was nothing like that. He smelt of paper, of greasy food, copy-machine toner and meat from the meat house and weirdly enough the smell comforted Matt like no other. It also aroused him. As if he was getting a chance to eat a whole tub of ice cream on his own for the first time in his childhood when ice cream was still the best thing on earth before Stick ruined that for him. 

Matt made sure to lick Foggy’s jaw, his neck, the salt of his skin, his nipples, which made him arch against him. Matt wanted to taste it all. He lifted him from his feet, grabbing his generous naked thighs hard and getting him to his bed.

“Fuck, Matt! Didn’t know you could do that!”

“I’m the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, give me some credit, Fogs.” And Foggy moaned as Matt dumped him on his bed. There was no mercy for Foggy’s underwear. Foggy could not quite believe what was happening but hell if he wasn’t going to enjoy this dream-moment in his life. They could regret all that in the morning. Actually, in the afternoon, since they would most definitely spend all morning in bed, or so Foggy hoped. 

It was a queen-sized bed and maybe it was a bit small for them, but it was better than fucking against the wall. Not that it was a bad idea, Matt thought. It would probably be really hot to have Foggy screaming his name up on the wall. Maybe next time when it wasn’t their first time and Matt wasn’t trying to be, at least a bit, romantic. He sucked at being romantic with Foggy, he knew too much about him for it to work. He would try none the less.

Matt felt Foggy’s hands on his nape where they played with his hair, down his back and firmly on his ass. Foggy moaned and it was sweet in his ears. Matt could feel the hairs on Foggy’s skin stand up, excited, under his fingertips.

Matt kneeled between Foggy’s legs and made a mental note of buying Foggy some silk sheets. Or even better, sequestering Foggy completely and forever to his apartment, maybe keeping him naked for all time, dressed only in the silk of his sheets. Matt felt like a selfish decadent bastard. Curiously, he rejoiced in the feeling. He filed all that for Confession. 

“Foggy, I want you so bad…” He whispered as he ran his hands mapping his love’s body.

“Matty, me too, top drawer to the left.” Was all Foggy whispered back. He easily found lube and condoms in the bedside table. He kept kissing Foggy and inhaling his breath and feeling his smell, his musk and his essence. He squeezed some lube into his hands, which thankfully had a fresh clean smell instead of something artificial and fake as was the case with most brands, he mentally thanked Foggy for imagining sex with him to this much detail, and let his fingers feel the hard flesh of Foggy’s sex. He let himself map the shape of the head, the feel of his skin. His mouth watered and he also filed that thought for another day, the want to ride the hard-on in his hand. Their first time would be for debauching his friend, Foggy had waited too long for that. He took his time touching and learning then finding the soft sack beneath and following down to what he really was looking for. What he really wanted. He squeezed more lube into his hand, he wouldn’t hurt Foggy. He would never do that. Intentionally. 

The sounds that Foggy was making as Matt prodded in a finger, then two, then three, slowly opening up his partner, were music, as beautiful as the one he sang at the bar. The goosebumps that ran up his skin made Matt sure that there was no faking in his pleasure and need. Foggy was soft trembling skin, smelling of musk, emitting heat. Heart thundering as his sweet desperate voice begged Matt for more. 

“Matty, please, please, I need you… in me. Not just your fingers, please.”

Matt was happy to comply. After so many years of wanting, lusting, dreaming of Foggy in this position. Under his tongue and fingers… He made sure his aim was true. Touching his way to the right path. Sinking into his lover’s flesh, inch by inch. Slowly. Teasing and being careful and loving at the same time. 

When he got himself entirely in, he held it for a moment. His breath and all movement, in hold. To settle. To love. To let it burn in his memory as one of the top moments in his life.

“Foggy… Fuck! So tight!” He revealed without intention.

“It’s been a whiiiile…” Foggy answered with laugh in his voice that was shirt lived, changed into desperation. 

“Matt, move. Please. I need…”  
Matt started the back and forth with care, all care in the world for Foggy, working slowly into a rhythm. Foggy wasn’t one for patience, so he started to writhe under Matt which made the hero increase pace in a maddening way that stole any coherence from Foggy’s mind. Soon they were both on edge and with a few strokes Foggy was coming and his body tensed around Matt that fell into his own orgasm write after. 

They didn’t last long. They have been wanting each other for too long. Matt certainly blacked out for a moment there. Foggy didn’t care, he himself was too blissed out to complain as the Daredevil fell unmoving over him. He just made sure he was comfortable. Kissed the corner of his lips lovingly and caressed his hair. Matt quickly came back to himself, pulled out, and let himself fall beside Foggy, drained, but so pleased.

They let the room be filled with their heavy breaths. The sun from the window making everything stickier and sweatier. They didn’t care, really, they just made sure to keep touching. Foggy made an effort to reach out and kiss him.

“I’m yours ‘till I die…” Foggy sang in a small intimate voice. Like a promise. Like a vow. Like love. It sounded perfect to Matt’s ears.

“So in love… with you am I.” Was Matt’s answer and though untalented and untrained, it rang true and honest. 

Binding.


End file.
